Zero Hour
by carroussella
Summary: A masked gunman,10 men, a hotel room & the elite Strategic Response Team, mixed together in a tense cauldron of drama, emotions and a ticking clock. Who will emerge victorious? Feat. Super Junior M. Violence & vulgar language
1. Prologue

_**_**Fandom: **_**_Super Junior M_**_**  
><strong>_**__**_**Rating:**_**_ M, for language and violence****_**_**  
><strong>_**_

_**_**Disclaimer: **_**_As much as I'd love to, I don't own any of the Super Junior members or Flashpoint. Their names have been borrowed and this story in no way reflects who they are in real life. No offense intended towards them. All original characters and plots are mine. No copyright infringement is intended. _**_**  
><strong>_**_

_**_**Author's note:**_ **_I got hooked on a new drama series, Flashpoint, which is about a fictional unit of the Canadian police called Strategic Response Unit. This plot bunny jumped in as I was watching the second episode, and let's just say it was history from then on. It's a short story for now… until the plot bunnies tell me otherwise.

* * *

><p><em><strong>PROLOGUE<strong>_

From his deep recesses of sleep, he vaguely registered a distant ringing sound. It was his alarm clock.

Groaning, the man reached out from under his bed covers for the offending device on the bedside table. He felt around, fumbling and nearly dropping the clock.

The noise woke his roommate. "Is it already time to wake up?"

"Yeah," came the hoarse reply, still full of sleep. "Get up."

The second man groaned loudly into his pillow, unwilling to leave slumber land and face the real world. "Give me another five minutes."

"Can't do," said the first man, sitting up in his bed and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "We have a flight to catch."

He got up from the bed, walking to the interconnecting door that linked this room to the one next door, where their friends were.

As the door swung open, he announced loudly, "Rise and shine sleepyheads!"

All he was greeted with was the frightened and stunned looks of the other room's occupants, bound and gagged on the floor.

The masked man standing over them with a gun turned to face the newcomer, and the man felt his heart sink.

They were never going to make the flight on time.


	2. Chapter 1

**_CHAPTER ONE_**

_**8:49 A.M.**_

There was chaos.

Sirens were wailing non-stop as numerous police cars pulled up, and a curious crowd made up of teenage girls, middle-aged women and office workers had gathered in front of the hotel.

Kaelyn Young got out of her car slowly, surveying the various law enforcement personnel who had responded to the emergency call. There were the men and women in blue – the first responders, no doubt – but they were closely followed by plainclothes detectives, probably members of the investigation team.

"Ma'am, you can't park here," one of the policemen manning the cordon line stopped her before she could move from behind the door. "Please move your vehicle."

Ignoring him, Kaelyn focused her attention to another vehicle, an unmarked car with sirens blaring, that had made its way through the crowds, and was now past the cordon line.

It was a car she recognized.

"Phil!" she cried as the driver emerged. The tall, lanky man turned in response to his name, but didn't see her among the inquisitive bystanders.

Kaelyn slammed her car door close, locking the vehicle in the process. She tried again. "Phil!"

"Ma'am, please! You're not allowed beyond this line." The same officer had taken to physically blocking her advance, and annoyed, Kaelyn reached into her bag.

Bringing out her badge, she growled at the uniformed officer. "Let me through!"

He didn't move out of her way fast enough, so Kaelyn gave him a light shove to the side. "Phil!" she called again.

This time, the subject of her calls spotted her. "What are you doing here?" Philip "Phil" Anderson asked when Kaelyn came to a stop in front of him.

It was then that she realized he wasn't alone – walking hurriedly in step in front and behind Phil were Lance Bradford, Thomas "Tommy" Calhoun, Edward "Ed" Logan and Noah "Mack" McCormack. Each man was wearing combat fatigues – their dark grey uniform covered by a light greyish-blue bulletproof vest, black combat boots, and an ammunition kit hung from their waists. In addition, Mack and Ed were armed with a sniper's rifle each; and every man had his standard-issued firearms holstered to the hip and thighs.

They were members of the highly elite Strategic Response Team, a unit of the police force that was trained in crisis negotiation and to respond to nearly any kind of emergency situation. Phil had been leading the team for five years, and each member under him had a specialized role that made them effectively lethal in the field. Kaelyn, the only female, was the team's forensic psychologist, their point man during negotiations. She was, however, as accurate a shot as her team mates.

"What's going on?" Kaelyn asked, directing her question to no man in particular and falling into step with them. Although she had to take two steps to each of theirs, she'd learnt long ago to keep pace with them.

"You just ignored Phil's question," Lance quipped, without breaking stride. A small grin broke the serious concentration that had been on his face just a moment earlier. "What are you doing here?"

"Just answer the damned question," Kaelyn snapped back. "What's going on?"

The five men shared a look. "It's your day off, Kae," Ed reminded her.

Kaelyn shot him a "are you kidding me?" look, her brows crossing in frustration. Throwing up his hands in surrender, Ed passed the buck to Phil. "Hey boss, maybe you'd better brief her. Six heads are better than five."

Phil motioned for Kaelyn to fall into step with them, and she was vaguely aware of the odd picture they made. Five burly Caucasian men, all standing at six feet or taller and dressed to kill, walking on either side of a petite five-foot-four Asian woman who looked like she was on her way to the beach. As they passed fellow officers and hotel staff, questioning glances shot their way, but nobody said anything.

"We have a hostage situation," Phil told her, and Kaelyn felt her heart seize. "A lone gunman entered a hotel room and he has ten hostages."

"Ten?" Kaelyn repeated. "How did he get ten people into one room?"

"That, baby girl, is the question we're asking and no one's answering," Mack replied.

The team entered the security command post, which had been emptied of the hotel's security personnel. A Middle Eastern man, whose nametag proclaimed him as Maumood, the hotel's head of security, was conversing with a bald, plainclothes detective.

"Captain," the detective greeted Phil.

"Okay Sam, talk to me," Phil instructed the man. Samuel Richards was a sergeant with the force, and he was well-known for being no-nonsense.

Sam began, "Subject is on the ninth floor, Room 903, which is the third on the left from the elevators. He forcibly entered the room about an hour ago, and is refusing to let anyone out."

"No surprise there," Ed muttered under his breath. The rest shot him a look to shut up.

"How'd he get ten people in one room?" Lance asked the question that was on everyone's lips.

Sam gestured towards a monitor in front of them. "903 had two occupants who checked in two days ago, and we have another six men entering the room voluntarily."

"What about the last two?" Mack asked.

Maumood spoke up. "They could have used the interconnecting door. 903 and 904 are both registered to the same party. It's likely that they unlocked the interconnecting door."

"Times?"

Sam spoke up. "Timestamp on the video from the corridor cameras has the perp entering nine-oh-three just after seven. Two more hostages entered at around 7.30 a.m., and the other four fifteen minutes later."

"None of the four men who entered gave any indication that they suspected something was amiss in the room?" Ed asked, peering closely at the playback on screen.

"None, sir," Sam answered. "I don't think they knew anything was wrong until they stepped through that door."

"What about the heat?" Kaelyn asked the question.

Maumood looked puzzled by her question, while Sam turned in surprise, as if just realizing she was present. He studied her unorthodox attire for a moment. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"She's Kaelyn, that's Doctor to you, and answer her question," Mack shot back. "Please," he added after Phil gave him a glare that said "be nice".

"So far, the report says he's only got one gun," Sam replied.

"What I don't get is this," Phil was now pondering the possible scenarios in his head. "What sort of relationship or prior arrangement did these eight men have, that knocking on each other's doors at seven in the morning is normal?"

"They were scheduled to check out this morning," Maumood responded. "An early flight to catch, I think."

"I have eleven bodies in that room," Tommy called out. No one had noticed him quietly setting up his laptop and equipment in one corner, but now he was accessing the hotel's floor plans and monitoring the room in question.

"Who was the room registered to?" Phil directed the question to Maumood, the hotel's head of security.

"A Korean by the name of Shin Jiwoo," the heavyset officer told them, moping sweat from his brow.

Kaelyn let out an audible gasp at the name, causing everyone to look at her.

"Something wrong?" Tommy asked.

"N-no," she stammered. Composing herself, Kaelyn asked Maumood. "What about the other men who checked in with him?"

Maumood sighed. "They're VIPs," he told them. "Celebrities of some kind, I think. We had a difficult time trying to keep their stalking fans at bay."

Mack swore under his breath. Their job just got more difficult with such high profile hostages. There was no telling if a crazy fan might jeopardize their operation.

"What's the band called?" Ed asked, without looking at the man. He was busy studying the floor plans that Lance had brought up on the screen.

"No idea," Maumood replied honestly. "Is that important?"

"Of course it is," Lance said. "Every detail is important. If we know what the band's called, we'll know the names of the band members. And possibly find out why our friend the gunman is holding them hostage."

"And that," Phil continued, emphasizing the second word, "is the key to getting everyone out alive."

"The band is called Super Junior M," Kaelyn announced. She'd taken a seat next to Lance, and was working on the laptop next to him, loading a webpage with each member's names and photos.

"Lee Sungmin, Lee Hyukjae, better known as Eunhyuk, Zhou Mi, Choi Siwon, Lee Donghae, Cho Kyuhyun, Kim Ryeowook and Henry Lau." She pointed to each member's photo as she said their names, and the team members committed that information to memory.

"That's eight," Mack spoke up. "Who's the other two?"

"Moon Seung-hwan and Shin Jiwoo, the band managers," Kaelyn replied. "No photos of them, unfortunately."

"You know Kae, I never quite pegged you as the K-pop fan girl," Tommy said, earning a cuff to the head from Phil for his remark.

Kaelyn scowled at him. "I just have better internet surfing skills than you do."

She turned her attention away from him, hoping no one would notice she was lying. She was so engrossed in presenting a nonchalant mask that she didn't notice the curious gazes both Mack and Phil directed at her.


	3. Chapter 2

_**CHAPTER TWO**_

_**9:17 A.M.**_

_How did things end up like this?_ Seung-hwan wondered, his head aching. Barely moments ago, the masked gunman who had been in Jiwoo and Hyukjae's room had whacked him in the head with his gun. Seung-hwan was sure a bump was already forming on his temple.

The gunman's action had stunned the rest of the Super Junior members into submission; Ryeowook's crying was now softening to sniffles as he tried to control his emotions.

Earlier that morning, after his alarm clock had gone off, Seung-hwan left Siwon in their room and headed next door to wake Hyukjae and Jiwoo up. He hadn't been prepared to see his friends huddled together on the floor, both bound and gagged, with a gunman standing over them.

The moment the masked man had seen him, he'd ordered Seung-hwan to join the others on the floor. Seung-hwan had compiled out of fear. When he didn't return to his room after fifteen minutes, Siwon had inadvertently stumbled into their room, and into the clutches of their captor as well.

Siwon, ever the calm hero, had tried talking to their captor, asking him what he wanted, only to be told in no uncertain terms to shut up. He'd remained silent ever since, eyeing the gunman cautiously.

Seung-hwan closed his eyes as another wave of pain washed over him. Ryeowook and Henry, the two innocent boys, had wandered to look for him when they woke up, and before they could sound the alarm, they'd been taken hostage too.

He had prayed fervently after that, hoping that the rest – Sungmin, Zhou Mi, Donghae and Kyuhyun – would not follow their usual practice and enter Jiwoo's or his room before they headed for breakfast.

Unfortunately, his prayers weren't answered, and one by one, the Super Junior members were herded like cattle into the room, where they were all crouched together.

Their captor was now pacing up and down the length of the room, muttering to himself. From his position, Seung-hwan exchanged looks with Siwon, who had cradled Jiwoo in his arms. Donghae did the same for Hyukjae. Their captor hadn't allowed them to untie the two men, although Seung-hwan spied Siwon covertly trying to loosen Jiwoo's bonds to make him more comfortable.

Seung-hwan decided to try talking to their captor. "Excuse me," he called in Korean, stopping the other man in his tracks. "Could you at least tell us who you are, and what this is about?"

"Quiet!" he roared at them in English, not seeming to understand the question.

"Who are you?" Siwon asked him in the same language.

"You don't need to know who I am!" He turned towards Siwon, the gun now level with the gesture man's forehead. "I know who _you _are, that's all that matters!"

"Whoa," Donghae started to rise, moving in front of Siwon. "Calm down man."

"Don't tell me to calm down!" The gun was now pointed at Donghae's head.

"Okay, okay," Donghae held up his hands in surrender. He sank back down to the floor next to Eunhyuk again.

"Because of you, all of you, I've lost everything! So today," their captor smiled menacingly, "You will all pay."

Their captor uncocked the safety mechanism on the gun, the "click" a deafening sound echoing in the deathly silence of the room. He aimed the gun at Siwon's temple again, finger ready on the trigger.

The Super Junior members and their managers held their breaths; some closed their eyes, not wanting to witness their friend's demise.

And then the phone rang.

* * *

><p><em><strong>9:32 A.M.<strong>_

Tension was high in the control room, although the occupants did their best to quell their anxiety.

"Penny, get me flight details for our hostages, and everything you can find on them," Phil instructed their technical analyst, who was on speakerphone.

"Everything, sir?" Penelope Clayton repeated. "Do you know how much information there is on these guys?"

"Everything, Penelope," Phil's tone brooked no argument, and Penny let out an audible sigh. "You'll have it as soon as I do, sir."

Hanging up, Phil looked around the room. "Do we have eyes yet?"

"Negative, boss," came Mack's reply over their comm sets. He sounded out of breath, as if he had been running.

"We're running out of time, Mack," Kaelyn said. "Get us in there ASAP."

"Working on it, doc," It was Ed this time, sounding just as breathless as Mack had.

After the team had established who their hostages were, they'd immediately fallen into their usual pattern. Mack and Ed were on tactical point, so they were in charge of getting "eyes in the room", the team's lingo for hooking up a video feed so they could watch what was happening.

Maumood had confirmed that there were no security cameras in the room, so Mack and Ed had decided to go into 1003, the room directly above 903, to dangle a portable camera from the window.

Phil, Kaelyn and Lance had stayed back at the control post, together with Tommy, who was monitoring camera feeds and giving directions to the tactical duo.

"Kae," Phil called, distracting the psychologist from her research on the band.

"Yup?"

"You're on point."

Kaelyn met Phil's eye. "I'm on point."

Despite being on her day off, Kaelyn was just given the most important role – that of a negotiator. While everyone on the team was trained in crisis negotiator, the role usually fell to Kaelyn because of her specialized expertise in the area, and also because most perpetrators, who were men, responded much more positively to a woman. She gave the team an advantage in many situations, and her uncanny ability to read and accurately predict behavior while in the field was unparalled.

Tommy was their technical whiz, and he usually monitored communications from a central command. Today however, he'd been picked to run back-up with Phil, so that left Lance holding down the fort.

"And… we have eyes in the sky!" Tommy punched his fist in the air in jubilation as the feed from the camera Mack and Ed set up showed up on their screens.

"There's our guy" Lance pointed out, indicating a man in jeans and a black shirt pacing around.

"He's agitated," Kaelyn said.

Tommy paused the video where the gunman had his face turned toward the camera. He quickly took a screenshot, and sent it to their technical analyst. "Penny love, run this pretty boy's face through the system and see what you get, okay?"

"You got it, sugar," was the quick answer.

"And there's our hostages," Phil gestured towards the ten men sitting in a row on the floor, their backs to a wall. The camera was at the perfect angle, allowing them a glimpse into the entire area, except the bathroom.

"Siwon, Donghae, Eunhyuk, Kyuhyun, Zhou Mi, Ryeowook, Sungmin and Henry," Kaelyn identified each man. "The men in between Siwon and Donghae, and to Henry's left, must be Jiwoo and Seung-hwan."

"Wait," Phil instructed. "Can you enlarge this screen?" he asked Tommy.

Tommy did as requested. "Do you see that?" Phil asked the others.

"Two of them are tied up," Lance replied in astonishment. "The rest aren't."

"Who was rooming with Eunhyuk?" Tommy asked Sam. The detective consulted his notes, then responded: "Shin Jiwoo."

"So only Shin Jiwoo and Eunhyuk are bound. Why?"

"Maybe they presented the biggest threat to our guy, so he ordered them tied up to gain the upper hand," Ed speculated. He and Mack had returned to the control post as soon as their task was complete.

"Not possible," Kaelyn said.

"Why not?" Mack challenged.

"The biggest threat to our perp should be Siwon," she pointed to him on the screen, "Seung-hwan," she indicated again, "and Sungmin. They're our biggest guys, and both Siwon and Sungmin have martial arts training."

For a moment, she was glad for Wikipedia and fan sites – she'd gleaned more information about the band in ten minutes from the internet than she could possibly could by running a search through the police database. Every single trivia about each man, from the way he parted his hair, right down to the color of his underwear, was listed and examined in precise detail by their fans. It was a little freaky to know that the public paid so much attention to these men, but the incessive stalking was turning out to be a blessing in disguise.

"So if you want to neutralize your biggest threats, why go for Jiwoo and Eunhyuk, who are relatively harmless compared to these three?"

It was a question no one had the answer to, and everyone was silent as they thought about the possible rationale for the oddity.

"Seung-hwan looks like he's bleeding from the temple," Ed pointed out. "See?"

His team mates brought their faces closer to the screen, studying it even more intently.

"He definitely took a hit to the head," Lance confirmed. "Think he tried to fight our guy?"

"Possibly," Phil and Ed agreed, but Kaelyn shook her head. "Why not, doc?"

"Assuming Jiwoo and Eunhyuk were already hostages when Seung-hwan discovered them, it's unlikely that he would directly engage the perp for fear of antagonizing him," Kaelyn reasoned. "This is the team manager, guys. He's trained to watch out for his boys, ensure their safety from overzealous fans. He won't put any of them in danger."

Her teammates nodded their acceptance of her explanation. "But it doesn't explain why he got whacked," Sam the detective pressed on.

"He probably tried to reason with the perp, and got smacked for his effort," Lance said.

"Do we have anything on him yet?" Kaelyn suddenly asked, wondering if their technical analyst had managed to identify the gunman.

"No hits yet," Tommy told her. "She's still running his mug through the database."

"Shit," Phil swore. "They're engaging him."

The six of them, together with Sam, watched the monitor. They saw Seung-hwan speak to the gunman, although they couldn't hear anything because it was just a visual feed. Then the gunman's attention turned to Siwon, who also said something to him. Donghae entered the fray, rising to his feet before being ordered back to the floor.

"Damn it," Phil swore again. "Someone tell them to shut up and _not_ engage him!"

"He's bothered by something," Kaelyn hadn't been paying too much attention to the hostages, but was studying the gunman's body language closely. "But I can't tell whether it's his hostages or the situation. I need to talk to him. Can you get me a line in?"

"One line in, coming right up," Tommy promised her.

Kaelyn picked up the phone, waiting as Tommy connected it. The phone rang for a while, and then it was picked up.

"Hello?"


	4. Chapter 3

_**CHAPTER THREE**_

_**10:08 A.M.**_

"Hello?"

The ten men in the room exchanged nervous glances. Their captor had been about to shoot Siwon, but the in-room telephone had suddenly rung, distracting him. They waited with bated breathes as the phone rung once, twice, then thrice, before their captor stormed to the table and snatched it off the cradle.

Siwon breathed a sigh of relief that his prayer at that moment had been answered, and he was spared a bullet to the brain. He wondered who was calling, and he resumed his desperate inner prayer. _Please save us, God. Please save us. _

"What do you want?" Their captor growled into the phone. The Super Junior members and their manager exchanged looks. Each had the same question on their mind: Who was on the phone, and was the person friend or foe?

"There's nothing to discuss!" Again, their captor was shouting, getting agitated and frustrated. He paused to listen to what the person on the other line was saying, then yelled in reply: "I don't want anything from you! I just want these assholes dead!"

A collective shudder ran through the men huddled on the floor. Ryeowook starting crying again, and Eunhyuk, still gagged and unable to make a sound, let out a small whimper. Even Henry, who was normally more stoic, looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"There's nothing you can do to help me!" Now thoroughly worked up, their captor had pulled the phone away from his ear and spoke directly into the mouthpiece. His loud voice echoed through the room, causing several members to wince at the volume.

"..," he said into the phone again, spitting out each word. He cast an eye over them, and Zhou Mi shuddered in response, attempting to shrink away from the evilness in his gaze.

A cloud of despair fell over the group, knowing that they were trapped with a madman intent on seeing them to their deaths. Faced with the imminent end of their lives, each man was introspective, lost in his own thoughts.

Donghae thought about his mother, who would be heartbroken at the loss of another man in her life, and he said a silent prayer that his brother would take care of her. Similarly, Eunhyuk thought about his parents, and his sister, hoping that they would not be too upset.

Kyuhyun thought about the other Super Junior members – LeeTeuk, Heechul, Shindong, Yesung and Kangin – while Zhou Mi's thoughts drifted to Hangeng; both harbored hopes that their hyungs would not be too devastated if they failed to make it out alive.

Henry contemplated the last time he told his family he loved them, while Ryeowook tried to hang onto an image of his mother. Siwon considered his parents and his younger sister, then his thoughts turned to the woman he'd once loved. If he died today, he wanted her face to be the last image in his mind.

"WHY?" Their attention once again came to focus on their captor, whose sudden bellow had distracted them from their melacholic introspection.

"I don't need a reason to do anything!" He was now waving his gun around. It was apparent to the others that the person on the phone was provoking him, but they didn't understand what was going, not when all they heard was one side of the conversation.

"Fine. You want to know why, don't you?" A murderous glint entered their captor's eye, and he let out a bone-chilling cackle. "I'll tell you why."

"These men have to die, because they're too perfect for the rest of us."

* * *

><p><em><strong>10:19 A.M.<strong>_

Kaelyn held her breath as the phone rang once, then twice. She forgot that she'd stopped breathing; it was only until after she heard a click on the third ring, indicating that someone had picked up, that she let out the breath that she was holding. Keeping an eye on the screen, she knew it was the gunman who had answered.

"Hello?" she greeted, her voice steady and smooth, with no indication of the inner turmoil she felt.

"What do you want?" came the harsh reply, and Kaelyn fought the urge to flinch. She reminded herself to keep calm. _Engage him, and keep his attention_, she told herself.

"My name is Kaelyn Young, I'm with the Police's Strategic Response Team. And I just want to talk to you," she replied evenly.

"There's nothing to discuss!"

"But there is," Kaelyn began, still keeping an eye on the monitor and watching her subject's behavior closely. "We have plenty to discuss about. Like those ten men you're holding hostage."

"Is there something you want?" she continued, her voice unfaltering. "Tell me, and maybe we can work something out. I'm here to help you."

"I don't want anything from you! I just want these assholes dead!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Kaelyn saw her team mates exchange puzzled glances. This was an unusual case; usually the gunmen they dealt with demanded money, a getaway car, or other tangible items that the team could pretend to obtain, to buy them time. The hostages were usually an insurance plan, their presence a safeguard for the gunman to get what he wanted. Hurting or killing the hostages was not usually part of the plan; it happened only if the gunman was provoked over the edge, or if there was an accident. Murder wasn't usually on their minds.

This perp, however, had just signalled that murder was on his. That made the SRT's job even more difficult, because talking was the only way to buy them time until they would work out a plan to infiltrate the room with minimum casualties. It was harder to negotiate with a man who had cold-bloodedly formulated a murder plan.

But Kaelyn plunged ahead. "Surely there must be a reason why you want these men dead. Did they do something to you, or someone you care about? You're a smart man," she praised, "You plan everything carefully. So I'm sure you have a reason for doing this. Tell me about it, and I'll see if I can help you."

"There's nothing you can do to help me!"

Kaelyn pulled the phone away from her ear, wincing at the loud volume. The man on the other line was getting more and more agitated. Onscreen, she saw him waving his gun around the room. It was good that talking to her had made him take his attention off his hostages, that meant that he could be easily distracted from his task. But he also had a volatile temper; if she incited his temper too much, he could accidentally fire his weapon.

"Of course I can help you," Kaelyn persuaded. "But you'll have to tell me what you want in order for me to help you."

"I just want these men dead."

Kaelyn heard the hatred in his voice. It was becoming evident to her, and the team, that their gunman did not merely choose these ten people randomly as his victims. They had done wrong to him – it didn't matter whether it was real or just a perceived wrong – and he was out for their blood.

"Why? What have they done wrong to you?"

"WHY?" He was now screaming, and Kaelyn saw Phil shaking his head at her, telling her to ease up on pressurizing the gunman. "I don't need a reason to do anything!"

Kaelyn's reply was conciliatory. "Of course you don't. You're the one with the gun. You have all the power now. But I just want to understand. You want that too, don't you? Someone to understand?"

She knew she had succeeded in calming him down a little when she heard him take a deep breath.

"Fine. You want to know why, don't you?" Kaelyn noticed his voice was more even, which told her that he was back in control of his emotions. She caught Phil's eye, nodding at him.

"Yes I do," she replied.

"I'll tell you why." He sounded a little happy now, too happy for Kaelyn's liking. She couldn't see his expression anymore, because he had turned his back to the camera and was now facing his hostages. Then his voice came over the phone again, this time deeper and harsher.

"These men have to die, because they're too perfect for the rest of us."

With that last statement, the phone went dead.


End file.
